Escape from the Santa Maria, part 2

[zombie_dog]

(This is part two of Escape from the Santa Maria, a short story set in the AoC. This story is essentially an offshoot of the Tales from the Securemarket™ series; you don't have to have read Tales to read this, but you might like it or understand it more if you have. As usual, I appreciate on-the-spot copy editing and, of course, encouragement!)

L and I crept through the concrete passageway of the ship's brig. I tried my best not to look in any more of the cells, instead fixing my eyes on the end of the hallway. About halfway down the hallway, I found that I could hear voices from the next room. I stopped L with a gesture and strained to hear.

"They can take all the time they want," one of the voices said.

"Sez you," another voice said. "You've Noisy Hell duty next, so you've got nothin' tah look forward to."

"Don't be an ass," the first voice said again.

"Alls I'm sayin'," the second voice said, "Is we need to run a tighter ship."

"Iffen you want a schedule," the first voice said, "Go join the Navy."

"Iffen Mr. Black heard you," the second voice began, but a third voice interrupted.

"Shut up!" it shouted. "Both of yeh, shut up!"

There were a few seconds of silence. I looked at L, held three fingers up and gave her an inquisitive look. She shrugged.

"For fuck's sake," the third voice said.

"If yeh don't welcome debate, Charley, we'll never be a proper democracy," the first voice said.

L gestured to me and pointed to the left. She pointed at herself and then pointed forward and right. I assumed that she meant our targets and nodded.

"Don't get me fuckin' started," the third voice replied.

L and I crept to the door. I held up a hand and counted down from three.

Three ... two ... one!

I yanked the handle of the door and threw my shoulder against it. The door swung to the left and slammed into the man who had been standing there. He stumbled backward and out of my sight. The other two men in the room stared, startled for a brief second.

I brought my shotgun to bear and stumbled around the door, then sighted the man there and fired. The right half of his neck and a portion of his shoulder exploded, and the soft concrete behind was pockmarked as the pellets tore bloody chunks from it. The man fell, making a gurgling noise that would haunt my dreams for a year.

I was so distracted that I didn't notice that L hadn't followed me until one of the other men shot me. I didn't notice that I had been hit at first; I instead stumbled from a force whose origin I could not detect and heard a loud bang.

L ran into the room just as I turned to look at the men. She had her little custom pistol out again, and another one just like it was in her other hand. She sighted the other two guards with one pistol each and pulled their triggers. The pistols barked and a flash came from their muzzles; a great hole appeared in one man's stomach and the other found his arm blown cleanly off. Both collapsed.

L turned to me.

I squinted at her, leaning against the wall in the position where I'd fallen. "Those're spell pistols, aren't they?"

"You were hit," she said.

"Yah," I panted. "Why didn't you follow me?"

"Because you don't go on one. You go on zero," L said. "Nobody goes on one. It's three, two, one, go."

"Oh," I said. "I go on one."

"Well," L said. "From now on we are going on zero. Where were you shot?"

I removed my hand, revealing the bullet hole in my side. L grimaced.

"Can you stand?" She asked.

I struggled to my feet. "Yeah," I said, trying to suppress the pain.

"Did ..." she said, "Did it hit any organs?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" I asked.

"I don't know," L said.

"I think it went through, though," I said. "I don't suppose you know any cure magic?"

L frowned.

"I'm fine," I said, waving the idea off. "Let's just bind it."

Working together, L and I made an improvised dressing for my wound from the guards' clothes and wrapped it around my midsection. Just as she was tightening the knot, a LAN communicator on a guard's belt came to life.

"This is Wordsworth," the voice said. "Come in, boys."

Both of us froze.

"Hello?" the communicator continued. "What's up, fellas? Are Boris and Moby back?"

"Should I answer it?" I asked.

"Can you sound like a sea terrorist?" L asked.

"I don't think so," I said.

"We should go," L said.

We moved toward the opposite door. The wound in my side made movement a much more painful process, and my pace was slowed to a quick walk.

"All right, the communicator said. "I'm coming down. If this is a false alarm, you're all going to get it."

We moved into the adjacent corridor and found that it was on the deck of the ship. A window separated us from the top deck, whatever that's called. A pair of armed men were striding across it, and when they saw us they pointed and shouted.

"Shit," I said.

"Follow me!" L said. She was pointing to another door that led back in the direction we came, but into a different hallway. A sign above the door read 'To Engine Room.'

I hobbled after L, who rounded the corner and immediately descended the stairs. I was only a few steps down when the machinegun rhythm of her feet against the metal stopped. She was already at the bottom.

"Please hurry!" L shouted.

"I'm trying!" I shouted back.

I was halfway down the stairs when the noise of our pursuers reached me. The sounds of their footsteps in the enclosed corridor accompanied their shouts, alerting me that they were now only steps away. I turned and braced myself against the wall, then aimed the shotgun at the top of the stairs.

I pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

One of the men turned the corner and shouted, "There's one on the stairs!" He pointed his gun at me.

"Right!" I said, then pumped the shotgun, sending a spent shell flying and chambering a new one. I aimed at the top of the stairs and fired, spraying the area with buckshot. My wound burned as the force of the blast moved it, but I couldn't let up; I pumped the shotgun and fired again, eliciting shouts from my pursuers. I turned and scrambled down the stairs as fast as I could, one hand cradling the shotgun and the other gripping the stairway's rail. In front of me, L aimed at the top of the staircase with both of her pistols and fired them. A pair of magical projectiles hissed past my head and exploded at the top of the stairs. I could hear the sound of crackling fire and more shouts from the terrorists.

"Hah!" I said with a small smile. "I thought so."

"Stop talking," L said, "And move." I could see that she was trembling.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, L fired another pair of firebolts, then put her pistols back into the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. She wrapped one arm around me and we moved as quickly as we could.

We limped through a metal portal to a large room filled with an ear-splitting noise. There was a large cylindrical structure in the center of the room; we were standing on a metal catwalk that formed a rectangle around the cylinder.

"What is that noise?!" L shouted, trying to pull me faster.

"Ow ow too much!" I said. L pulled a bit more gently and I continued. "It's an internal combustion engine."

"I'm sorry, a what?" she asked.

"Internal combustion engine!" I shouted, then coughed. "It's an old type of engine that uses fuel to cause a series of small explosions that power pistons."

"An engine that runs on explosions?" L said, incredulous.

"Yes," I said.

"How manly," L said.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm not terribly surprised that it took a woman to standardize a technomagical alternative."

"I didn't hear --" L shouted, then was interrupted as a bullet ricocheted off of the metal railing near us, making a peculiar ringing noise. L turned back and shot several of the explosive bolts that she'd used to kill the guards. There was no return fire; I assumed that she had hit her target.

"Where now?" L shouted.

I coughed several times and pointed at a nearby portal. L steered me toward it. I looked at the pistol in her hand, then her face. "Aren't you getting tired?"

"I tire slowly," L replied.

I squinted at her; something about her seemed familiar. "Your face..."

She shook her head, pushing the hood in front of her face, and said nothing.

We walked through the doorway and into a new hallway. The sound of the engine room was significantly diminished as we moved away from it, and as my head cleared, I realized where we were.

"Come on!" I said, pulling at L. My wound complained and I saw spots, but I was too anxious to get to my destination to care. "I know where we need to go!"

"Please, Q, calm down," L said, but quickened her pace nonetheless.

L helped me to the end of the hallway and I looked to my left. Sure enough, the metal stairway that I had descended to get here after meeting Mr. Black was there. I reached to the door on my right and opened it. L and I went through and into the crowded machine room.

L moved me to a nearby table. I leaned against it while she moved to shut the door. I noted that the tools I had requested had been brought to the room, scattered across the table. They were in poor condition but would probably work for the job I had been asked to do ... and the job that I was going to do instead.

"There isn't a lock," she said, a note of exasperation in her voice.

"That's all right," I panted. "If this ship uses ... the technology I think it does ... it doesn't ... have to ..."

"Are you all right, Q?"

"Don't feel so great..." I said. I could feel my adrenal reserve ebb in the moment of calm, and my muscles became very rubbery. My grip on the table slipped and I tumbled to the ground in a tangle of my own limbs, hitting my head along the way.

L rushed to me and kneeled next to me. "Q, what's going on? What do you feel?"

"Side ..." I murmured. The wound's effects had caught up with me. "Hurts pretty bad. I don't ... I'm having trouble thinking now."

L glanced quickly at the door, then at me. Her gaze flickered back and forth a few times, then she squared her shoulders and sighed. "Okay," she said. "I really have no choice. Listen, please."

"Listen to what...?" I asked. L shushed me.

L leaned very close to me, putting her lips next to my ear. I could feel her breath against it; she took a few deep breaths, then began to sing in a clear bell tone.

"You have felt the edge of the sword, my darling
The arrow's point has pierced your skin
But well you know, my dear
That you have too much here
To let prevailing darkness in."

My vision of the room seemed to fade as I listened to L's voice. Was I dying? I was left with the peculiar incongruity of being able to hear L's song as clearly as ever, while my other senses seemed to dull. Her song continued to ring through my head, sending a sensation over me that I could not describe, nor attribute to a single sense.

"You have known the bullet's bully touch this morning
Been beaten with an oaken club for tea
But you cannot depart
As you know in your heart
That you cannot abandon me."

A cool sensation washed over my body. My wound throbbed heavily for a few moments, then I could feel the sensation subside as it began to repair itself. I was being healed.

"Don't leave me
Don't leave me
Don't you dare leave me here alone

For Death has come a-calling
And I refuse to look into the great unknown

Without you..."

Healing energy washed over me. My mind went back to my classes on magic effect and ran through the routines that I had learned and never honestly expected to use. I let all of my mental barriers drop and gave myself to the welcoming magics.

L's voice continued in my mind for what seemed like a long time, but I knew was probably less than a minute. After a short time, I opened my eyes and looked at L. She had already stood up and was facing away from me, her arms folded.

I looked down at my wound. It was considerably better; it would probably need stitches, but I could tell that the immediate danger was past. I looked back up at L.

"You're a Bard," I breathed in awe.

She cleared her throat. "You were going to say something," she said. "Before your wound acted up."

"Ah ... yes," I said.

I got to my feet as quickly as I could, which was not very quickly at all; I was still injured, after all, and my energy reserves hadn't exactly been bolstered from being at death's door.

I surveyed the tools on the table. I reached forward and picked up a beat-up pair of magic-resistant gloves. I slid them on as I spoke. "This ship is too big to be able to dodge radar. I have to assume that it's got some kind of shielding or cloaking technology. If it does, that device is going to be here."

"What exactly do you intend to do?" L asked, turning a little bit.

"Being a Kekkai engineer, magical fields with boundaries are a specialty of mine," I said. I picked up the knife in one hand and the tongs in the other. "I'm going to borrow this ship's protection."